The Host
by My Tinkering Belle
Summary: Our world has been taken. When Grace van Pelt is invaded by a soul, Teresa, she refuses to fade away from herself, humanity, and the man that she loves. Based after the book, but you can read it alone. J/L and R/VP. AU.
1. Prologue: Inserted

**Hello, readers! As some of you may be suspecting, YES, this is based off of the novel by Stephanie Meyer. No, not just based; the plot is roughly the same, but with OUR characters. So, I might as well try out the Prologue, and see how y'all like it. **

**What are you waiting for? Read my first AU story! (Based after my all-time favorite book, of course!)**

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The Healer snapped his gloves on, clapping above the nervous murmurs in the next room.

He didn't know what the whole fuss was about; it was just another soul, nothing _new_ to say the least. His usual unmarred face almost twisted into one of irritation.

As a former See Weed, his emotions had the ability to mask themselves, since on the planet itself the only way of communication was through thoughts. On Earth, he didn't expect replies to his sometimes violent thoughts, a fact that he was ashamed of. As a soul, he was supposed to be compassionate, and honest.

And he was, usually. Maybe not on the outside, but truthfully, his thoughts never strayed _too_ far. But the soul in the the next room deserved more than a dozen people gawking at her; the memories she would awaken to were going to be bad enough.

"Healer Cho?"

He turned his head, the silver in his eyes reflecting from the sunlight through the window. As a soul, other than a small insertion scar at the base of his body's neck, the silver of his true form inside of him showed through his dark almond eyes. They flashed brilliantly against his assistant, Summer Behind Crystal, a beautiful bear from the Mists planet whose own mirrored back as well. "I'm ready, Summer. Is her Cryotank in order?"

She sweeped her short, white-blond hair into a plastic cap as they walked before speaking. "Yes, the tank is glowing and ready beside the host body, which is still heavily sedated." The murmurs in the room ahead greatened in volume, and Kimball Cho suppressed a groan. "Don't they have anything better to do?"

She sighed, straightening her blue scrubs before pushing through the doors. "They're just curious. They haven't seen a full grown human before. One that's wild, still soulless. Also, she suffered a great fall; they wanted to see the healed body themselves."

He almost cringed, memories of the mangled body that had been brought in to him and the blood that had pooled around her on the gurney. Of course, she was perfect now; he had seen to it. Conversations whispered around him, dimmed at his arrival but not at all stopped.

"I heard she was a Flower-"

"A bear, a See Weed, a Bat, a-"

"Spider, even a Dragon!"

"I bet she even began on the Orgin!"

"She's famous on every one, you know. In fact-"

With a glare from the Healer, the young men and women silenced themselves, clipboards anxiously clutched in their hands. With one more rather uncomfortable warning look, he turned to the body.

She was on her stomach, a blue fabric covering her from shoulder blades to calves, her long red hair pulled away from her smooth neck. Gruesome images began to reappear, but he stopped himself and reached his hand out. "Scalpel?"

The instrument was dropped lightly into his awaiting hand, and he swiftly positioned it for the cut. "Get her ready, Summer."

After stopping the flow of blood from her now-open cut, he turned around to cup his hands for his assistant. Ever so gently, with the elegance of a butterfly, the bright soul slipped into his palms. Even now, after over a thousand insertions, he was awed by the beauty of the soul, so much more graceful than any other one he has seen.

She was a silver ribbon, around the length of his middle finger and brighter than anything else in the room. Like a feather, she had hundreds of attachments that splayed around her like thin pale hair, stretching from her long sleep. He saw the reflection of the silver through his eyes, dancing colors against the opposite wall from her brilliance.

She was beautiful, like a star. Every world that she had been at, she was a protector who benefited the world greatly one way or another, leaving her legacy in their history. Oh, what was his host body's favorite Saint? Oh, yes. She was like Saint Teresa.

After an uncharacteristically shaky breath, he turned back around to the smooth body, only marred by the opening cut at the nape of her neck. With the swiftness of a Healer, his true Calling, he slipped the soul into the hot opening, watching her with a swift heart as her small appendages stretched, attaching herself to the body's nerves and accustoming herself into her new senses. He sighed as the silver all but disappeared from view, and paused before closing the wound.

"Good luck, Teresa." His words were solid, straightforward with a hint of compassion. "You're gonna need it."

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**So, whatdya think? Good, bad, or just plain ugly? I need to know before continuing any more, or just deleting it and pretending that it never happened. Please and thank you!**


	2. Remembered

**Alright, here it is, chapter one! Or, two, counting the prologue. I tried as best as I could to stick with the storyline in this chapter, but also put in a Mentalist flare to it. I hope I didn't mess anything up too badly! Fingers crossed!**

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I had been warned about the onslaught of feelings this planet had, how the end of this body would be painful to me, how it would be like death to these eyes.

No, not these eyes. _My _eyes. It was disorientating, but I knew that this was me now.

The language I was using was strange, choppy and elaborate. But it did have the ability to flow, if the right elements were supplied. It was vibrant and dull, capable of portraying feelings not by just words, but by _tone. _My language now. My native tongue.

The instincts I had been made with had wound into the host without fault, binding to the body until it and I became one. Our minds listened to each other, adjusting to habits without speaking. It was all very strange, but I had all the time with this species to get used to it, and then some.

The medicine was beginning to wear off, which would mean that the last moments of this body's life would soon reappear. My stomach clenched, as did my hands in anticipation. Sweat dewed on my skin, and the word came clear in my mind; _fear. _I was afraid. Defiance left over from the brutal human sprouted up, stubborn that she wasn't afraid, too proud to admit.

The sudden torrent of emotions was too strong, too _still there. _Was the former human supposed to still be so vivid?

I was interrupted.

The air was humid and salty, as if she was near an ocean, or beach. Sunlight was acid; she couldn't be seen in it, wouldn't. Sunset was darkening the empty building, a blessing as it was a nightmare. She needed to stay hidden, but needed to have enough light to know where to hide at the same time. The building itself wasn't in use anymore; the CBI, where she used to work as a rookie. In a perfect world like this, who would need police? The very thought of killing people without remorse, throwing them into barred rooms like animals... even for the greater good, I felt an unwelcome stir in the pit of my stomach. The body was used to taking pride in her work, and I was upsetting it. Once more, I felt the strange feeling that she was a bit too present than she should have been.

_I've failed._

Those words cut through my mind like a razor; the body's last thoughts. I could never have braced myself for this.

_Warmth hit my skin at different angles, a temperature that should have felt cold. Dust clogged my nose and eyes, searing fear pulsing through my veins. The footsteps followed just around the last bend of the wide harrowing hallway. I know this place better than they do, but I am but one. They whisper words behind me of tender, false concern. They wish me not to get hurt, a kindness. I scoff. Seekers, kind!_

At the word Seekers, my body stiffens. A feeling of bitter fury cuts through my body, and I have to suck in a breath. Never in all of my nine lives, have I felt a feeling as strong as this one. Hatred.

Something metallic and salty tingles my senses in the memory. It was a smell. Much like hatred, I had never experienced a sense like smell; everything seemed to be new. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

_The smell of blood hit my nose. I had cut my arm on a mangled pipe whenever I maneuvered in a tight turn to the beginning of my old bullpen. No time for stopping, or nostalgia. I only needed to escape from the wrath of the bittersweet bodysnatchers behind me. Was there an end to this race? Was there a way to survive?_

_There. Past the old leather couch no one ever sat on. A black void, beckoning to me past grayed walls and broken plaques. An empty elevator shaft. There may be no chance of surviving, but there may be a way of winning._

_I didn't stop, didn't jump. It met me mid stride, swallowing me. I could hear them yelling, but soon, only wind rushed past my ears. I clawed at the slick walls, anyway I could, but there was no buffer. _

Air streamed past my lungs, matching her reaction as she fell. _You're screaming, _my body explained.

_Soon, the inevitable occured. There was no end, only a crunch, and then a blossoming of pain. The fall wasn't far enough to kill me. Pain... was everything. How was I going to tell... Where...?_

I pulled out of the memory as fast as I could, but it soon pulled me right back in. But it wasn't the same experience. It was an image.

Human faces were all basic; an ovular sphere, with two eyes beside each other with a nose cutting through and lips underneath. The skin, as well as the eyes, ranges from a variety of colors, sometimes with odd combinations. Hair splayed out from the scalp, along with fuzzy lines above the eyes. Some had more hair on the lower face; these were always male. All so many colors, some faces have bound to look the same. But not this one. This face I would have known among millions.

The jawline was a soft curve, yet taut with muscles underneath. I saw that her skin was tanned lightly through a pink blush, from years running from my kind. Her eyes were hazel framed by a tangle of thick lashes, striking with dangerously arched eyebrows, as if beckoning to engage in a fight with her. Her hair, once dark auburn, was lightened naturally by the sun to a pastel red, straight as a board past her shoulders. I wanted to look at her more, awe in her beauty, for I knew that she was not a mere ordinary on this planet. But the image was abruptly wrenched away.

_Mine, _an alien though hissed in my head, tearing away anything within my reach. Did the... Did my body just talk to me?

_Mine. All of this is mine now, _I thought back, defiance flaring up and pushing her back. Was the body damaged? _Go away. You aren't here anymore._

_So why am I talking back to her? _I wondered tautly, right as a pair of voices decided to make an appearance across the room.

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**Aha! So, yes, I know it's a bit confusing if you haven't read the book, but it was confusing at first in the real one, too. Soon, everything will begin to make sense. Please please PLEASE review! Do I need to change anything? What characters would you like to appear in this story? Nearly every person that was a big deal in The Mentalist will be here, so just shout out any one specifically that you would like to see! Oh, and I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE HOST MOVIE TO COME OUT! It comes out in 2013, but oh well; The Avengers will have to do!**


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